


until I don't need fantasy

by nap_princess



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Car-owning Hans is my aesthetic, F/M, Happy Ending in an open way?, Helsa Summer Event, Helsa Summer Event 2020 (Disney), Mentions of Anxiety, Modern AU, Vroom vroom bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nap_princess/pseuds/nap_princess
Summary: “Will you tell me about it?”“I could tell you.” She replies. “Or, I could keep it to myself.”— HansElsa, modern AU(Helsa Summer Event: Prompt 7 — Free Day)
Relationships: Elsa & Hans (Disney), Elsa/Hans (Disney)
Kudos: 12





	until I don't need fantasy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [You and the Rest](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/676999) by Gustin Puckerman. 



> Notes 1: Challenged by **Liho** under an inside joke of ‘$19 M car’.

**until I don't need fantasy**

* * *

* * *

They cruise down the street freely; the wind in their hair, the tall green trees bowing towards them. It's Summer and lovely, and the music on the radio is pleasant.

He has a freckled hand on the steering wheel, his gaze hidden behind his sunglasses and a pink flush deepening on his cheekbones.

Elsa struggles not to smile at the sight of him. Hans just looks _so pleased with himself_ , _so happy_. Elsa wants to argue that he _always_ looks this way. Though, Anna tells her that this isn’t the case; that Hans only smiles like this ( _this genuinely_ and _this freely_ ) when Elsa’s around — which makes her both flustered and modest. 

'No, he doesn’t,' She wants to say but never does, because she trusts her baby sister and Anna is almost always right. So this _must_ be true, even if Elsa herself finds it hard to swallow, hard to believe. She doesn’t know how to react to something _so intimate_.

What can she even do with that piece of information? She isn’t sure. So she tucks it away; folded neatly in her head, saved and taken out on a rainy day when her inner demons tell her she isn’t enough. She dislikes the doubt that plagues her, but Hans keeps them at bay just by being near.

“You okay?” He asks.

The question is so timed perfectly; as if the universe cued him in its act, whispering its secrets into the shell of his ear and telling him exactly _what to say_ and _when to say it._ It’s a little too perfect. (Or maybe he just knows her well enough, knows when she’s letting herself get carried away?)

Elsa pulls her hands on her lap and resists the urge to twiddle with her thumbs or lock her fingers together or pick at the threads of her dress.

“Just thinking,” She replies truthfully, honestly, her blue eyes flitting around.

He reaches forward with his free hand, taking his time in changing the radio’s station. She’s a little disappointed, she liked the melody despite not know the name of the song or the artist, but perhaps it was too bubbly for him, a little too pop. Not his taste.

“What about?”

“An inside joke.” She answers.

He hums, “Will you tell me about it?” He asks, waiting for her to elaborate. 

A small grin tugs at her. “I could tell you.” She replies. “Or, I could keep it to myself.”

“You tease me. Don’t be cruel.”

She allows herself to smile this time. "What happened to that 19 million dollar car you kept telling me about?"

" _What?_ " He asks, a smirk playing on the edge of his lips. "Do you not like my ride?"

"It's not what I expected," She replies.

But, then again, Hans Westergaard isn’t the type of person to be predictable. She’s well aware of his character. There’s no real start or end with him. He just _is_ , and she goes along with it, because — never has there been a single moment where she regrets having him by her side.

"Well,” His smirk never falters. “It's what's taking us to get that chocolate ice-cream you wanted, so."

"No, no. I —” She clears her throat, fingers twitching out of habit. “I'm not saying it's _bad_."

"You're not?" He asks as the car slows, they wait at the red light.

Elsa shakes her head, feeling strands of her blonde hair tickling her nape. “I’m not.” She clarifies, feeling the urge to bite her lower lip and keep her opinion to herself. But she doesn’t. Anxiety can’t keep controlling her like this. “Actually, I, um —”

She can feel his gaze landing on her now, feel the heat and the attention. She looks away from the stagnant road and tries to match his stare with her practised shy one. She doesn’t know if it sticks, but he’s not looking away, so she can’t be _that bad_ at maintaining eye-contact, can she?

"I quite like it," She says in a soft voice, “A lot.”

"Good." He says. Pauses. Then lifts his sunglasses so that his emerald eyes are set on her, and only her. There’s a glimmer of hope behind them. " _Good._ "

* * *

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Notes 2: Another fantasy where I take inspiration from **You and the Rest**.
> 
> — 31 August 2020


End file.
